


Failiure

by arkhamknights



Series: Paracetamol [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Idk fluff mainly, M/M, Smith thinks he isnt good enough, Trott basically just fixes peoples problems, Uni stress, he's doctor phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 22:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12118374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkhamknights/pseuds/arkhamknights
Summary: Smith can't help but think he isn't smart, he just isn't good enough, not with another fail.Trott is always there to prove him wrong.





	Failiure

“Fuck- God fucking damnit,” Smiths voice echoed a little louder than originally hoped in the small open lounge, swearing at nothing in particular. He threw the sheet of paper to the floor, kicking it away when it feathered back to his feet. He crashed back onto the sofa, pulling his legs up to his chest, wincing a small amount when he heard the gentle pat of feet and the door swinging open gently.

He knew Ross had gone to the store to get some more than needed and definitely deserved groceries, and he’d entirely forgotten Trott had still been nestled in bed when he’d trawled to make breakfast and drop into their University to pick up a few things. Usually the young, white haired male got bored and went out for a few hours. 

“Smith? Are you okay?” The taller man grimaced, pulling his legs up more to hide his face, feeling the first few hot tears prick his eyes before streaming down his face in slow tracks. The other felt his heart break, and gently placed his book on the counter, slowly moving to sit beside his friend. 

“I failed. Again,” Smith growled, using the hand that had move to tug on his auburn hair to gesture at the sheet, half crumpled on the floor. He kept his face hidden, Trott noted that instantly. He hated the way Smith would keep touching his hair and hiding his face. He hated the way Smith was ashamed for being upset - he hated when he was upset. 

“No you didn’t,” Trott replied simply, gently looping his fingers around Smiths wrist when his hand moved up to run it through his hair again. Grey blue eyes certainly shined more when they were filled with tears. “You didn’t, Alex,”

Smith laughed a little, a bitter undertone in the noise. Trott frowned more, intertwining their fingers and gently lifting up Smith's chin, glaring at him, but only playfully. “I’m serious, Alex. This does not count for your overall grade. And… from now on I’ll help you with your projects. I won’t do it for you, but I’ll help, okay?” 

Smith gaped slightly at him, before squeezing the other man's hand and shaking his own head to regain attention. “I… thank you, Trott… Thank you so much…” He moved forward and crushed the other man in a suffocating (but secretly  undeniably wonderful) hug, sniffling slightly. “You're the best…”

The brunet laughed gently, running a hand through Smith's hair before he pulled back, patting the auburn haired man's thigh gently, and stood up slightly, tugging on Smith's hand. 

“Now, how about some of Ross’ cookies? I can make hot coco, too. Really craving chocolate right now,” He smiled softly, making Smith laugh and stand up, placing his spare hand on the man's hip and humming lowly. 

“Dance with me?” 

Trott shoved him away, grinning and scampering away into the kitchen, where soft music played through their radio. Smith smiled after him.

**Author's Note:**

> ANOTHER PARACETAMOL THING WOOHOO. I genuinely love this au ?? also this is before trotts new hair - I'll be posting his first little thing. I'll also start linking images - their apartment, their rooms, outfits, etc. 
> 
> Doctor Phil Trott strikes again. Poor boy has issues of his own, he's just a little stubborn...


End file.
